


3KK: Wrath (Nicholas DuBois II)

by crumbcake



Series: Three Kids Klance [11]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Parents, Coping, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, POV First Person, Parenthood, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, dual reproductive system omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-04-23 18:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crumbcake/pseuds/crumbcake
Summary: I’ll start with my babies, I got three of them - Clara, Shiro, and Saul. [e.g. Lance talks about his kids then gets into what happened to Keith.]





	1. Hey

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, Lance’s voice is very different than Keith’s. He doesn’t question why he does things, he just is who he is. Warning that the end gets dark as it introduces Lance’s thoughts after the fallout from Nicholas DuBois fic. Lots of cursing in his dialogue. In this one, Lance almost loses his way. 
> 
> Timeline wise this was after Nicholas Dubois and before Noche Buena.
> 
> Spanish terms used in this one:  
> Mi hija querida - my dear daughter/my cherished daughter  
> Lindo conejito - cute little bunny (term of endearment)

I’ll start with my babies, I got three of them - Clara, Shiro, and Saul.

 

Clara’s my oldest - she’s our hardheaded alpha princess. She’s sixteen (we had her real young) and doesn’t let us forget it.  At the minute, I think she’s grounded for 40 years but I can’t keep track. We’re in the tyrant teen era with that one. At least I hope that’s what it is cause the kind of next level shit she pulls just ain’t right. Nothing but poison and vitriol comes out of that girl’s mouth sometimes. I mean - half the time I’m thinking, what the hell got her so mad?! Damn.

 

It’s usually not directed at me. She saves most of her scorched Earth routine for my bondmate, her mom, Keith. I mean she and Kitten bump heads real bad.

 

I mean  _ bad _ .

 

Sometimes, Kitten looks like he’s gonna blackout from the murderous rage he’s cooked up when fighting her. One day he’s gonna drop kick her off the face of this Earth. Those two fight like there’s some rare prize at the end for most deranged fury.  Half the time, Kitten’s declaring to me that we’re raising a maladjusted delinquent which I think is  _ hilarious _ . Cause in reality? She’s no worse than he is. 

 

Though she’s done some fucked up shit. Let’s see... 

 

Like she cursed me out and then cursed Keith out (and lived to tell the tale - I had to stop Kitten’s attempt at homicide). 

 

The craziest shit she did? Once she told us she was staying at Milton’s. Milton’s an alpha friend of hers who’s got a twin sister. They’re good kids,  _ usually _ . The three of them were conspiring up shit cause it turned out that when Clara said she was going to Milton’s what she meant was she’s picking up her friend Milton and then heading to Milton’s as in Milton Plaza, a fucking hotel in California, USA. 

 

She wasn’t lying, right? Insert my roll of eyes here. We thought she was going a town away when she was actually going a whole COUNTRY away to meet some shady jet modder and catch a jet-mod event with her good friend Milton.  

 

Unfortunately for her, we’re paranoid people with One World connections so we have alerts set up for when our kids’ biosignatures leave the country and/or go off planet. 

 

She told us she was gonna be offline for an hour and a half on a cycler maintenance she was doing. That was right before she boarded a jump to the states. This child of ours had it all planned out - she pre-reserved the hotel room under Keith’s name and routed the billing to Milton’s e-address. She had cracked her biosignature settings so it would piggyback Milton’s sister’s location instead of her own coordinates. 

 

Joke’s on her - none of that hard work of hers mattered because the second she placed her hand on a One World ID scanner at the airport, we got an alert that her ass was on a jump out of Cuba. Milton’s sister tried to cover for them too when we tried to figure out what the fuck was happening. 

 

Imagine Clara’s surprise when Keith knocked on her hotel door while talking to her on the comm. He asked her to open up so she can gush some more about that dinner Milton’s dad was making. That sneaky little girl died a thousand deaths that day. Ha, Keith made her go to the front desk and tell them what she did so they would correct the bioprint they had stored for Keith since it was actually  _ her _ handscan not his. 

 

I’m telling you that was one long awkward ride for Clara and her friend back to Cuba. Oh and Kitten actually dragged their asses to Milton’s house for a late dinner!! Clara and friends had to sit there for an hour, getting their asses handed to them by Keith and Milton’s dad. That little shit deserved every second of it. If it was me picking her up at the hotel, I would’ve shot her in the ass.

 

But seriously, only real difference between her devil-may-care shit and Kitten is that he’s mellowed out a little bit. Payback’s a bitch, Kitten.

 

Anyway, Clara has her moments but she’s still our baby. She laughs a lot and she cares deeply about others when her head’s not in the clouds. We worry about her though. She’s a slacker when it comes to school though she’s really good at mechanics and off road flying. We try to encourage that passion in her - I mean, she’s incredibly talented and hardworking on her pet projects - but it’s to the extent that she refuses to try on anything else. 

 

We try to instill in her that she’s gotta hustle on the things she doesn’t want to do too, cause that’s a big part of life but I dunno if any of that is sinking in. In fact, I’m fairly sure none of that is sinking in cause most of the time you can’t tell her nothing! 

 

She graces us with that ‘Yeeess maamiii, yesss papiii’  roll of eyes thing like she’s exhausted and we’re the stupidest pieces of shit she’s ever encountered. Baby, what’s there to be exhausted about?! We’re the ones working our asses off trying to keep you fed and clothed and trying to shape you into a functioning member of society (that last one is hard, we’re fucked up soldiers - ‘how to human’ doesn’t come as naturally as you would think but we play it off. Well *I* do, Kitten scares people with his ‘friendly’ constipated looks).

 

I dunno, I’m giving the wrong impression. Clara’s always fighting us lately so it’s on my mind a lot. She’s got so much good in her too. Like I said she has a great sense of humor and she’s super smart (no matter what her grades say about that). She’s also protective of Keith and her brothers. With Kitten, she gets to be a dick to him but no one else can. Not on her watch. 

 

She’s also quick to adapt to pretty much anything with little fuss. I mean you’d think she was born on Earth and immersed in Earth culture from how she acts. Where was she born? A dark ass death planet is where. I almost lost my baby before she arrived. Almost lost Kitten, too. I can’t think on that too much but I can say that Clara was our light during a whole lot of darkness. 

 

Clara’s beautiful too, she looks just like Kitten. Maybe I’m biased but I don’t think so - I see the other kids giving her big dreamy cow eyes but she’s oblivious about that kind of thing. 

 

Mi hija querida.

 

Anyway.

 

Moving on to Shiro.  That omega son of mine, I swear to god.  Where is he now? Is he in one piece?? Ten percent of my therapy is old war shit and the other ninety percent is coping with the trauma of raising Shiro. I mean holy shit, what the fuck. I’ve got stories for days about Shiro. He’s seven years old and it’s a god damn miracle he’s still alive. Yesterday, I had to dive bomb to save him from a roaring charcoal grill that he knocked over. 

 

He’s trouble in every possible way and he’s definitely ruined my sex life with Kitten. For one, he manages to interrupt us at night usually when Kitten had his jollies and I wasn’t there yet. Never fails. But of course, the nights where we’re just sleeping - which are most nights - he don’t bother us.  The other destroyer of sex life thing of his is that he’s about hip high to me and a dangerous bundle of energy that accidentally punches, kicks, slaps, elbows, or knees me in the balls. It happens all the fucking time. 

 

Kitten gets concerned for  _ Shiro _ if he don’t find me curled up in the fetal position at least once a day. Why do I bother with birth control? My son is a form of birth control. My dick needs its own therapy sessions. I need to just give in and wear a jock strap in the house cause my dick and balls can’t take much more of this abuse.

 

Speaking of dicks, when Shiro was five, he discovered his own dick and his hooha and it was the fucking worst. No parent should have to deal with their five-year-old showing off their wanking skills. This kid wanked enough for a lifetime. He would be walking around all casual with his hand down his pants, working away like he thought he was on borrowed time with his private parts. 

 

I mean one second he would be playing with his toys being adorable and the next I’d catch him in the den, flat on his back, toy in one hand and his other hand stuffed down his pants wanking as he grunted away like an amorous moose. 

 

Just enjoying himself. 

 

No one tells you this shit when you get a kid. They should tell you this shit. 

 

The words that came out of my mouth for weeks on end? ‘Shiro, don’t touch yourself in front of others. Shiro, it makes people uncomfortable and unhappy when you do that in their presence. Shiro, save that for when you’re alone in your room. Shiro, that’s a private time thing, remember?’ Sometimes, he would start then remember and look at me and Kitten, giggle, and skip off to his room. 

 

You know. To masturbate. 

 

I don’t know if there’s enough therapy in this quadrant to get me through all this psychological trauma shit. I rather just get kicked in the balls.

 

Thankfully, he eventually got the message and stopped torturing us.

 

Instead, he moved on to biting people. Yeah,  _ biting _ . Isn’t that precious? I mean that’s an omega thing but it’s usually a grown-up omega thing - like after omegas get their heat cycles and get sensitive to pheromones thing. Not a kid thing. 

 

Quick life lesson - omegas get a little crazy at preheat if they’re scenting out an alpha pheromone they’re attracted to. It’s like they want to  _ eat _ us.

 

And fucking Keith? Shit. I swear he starts looking at me and salivating in a ‘I’m gonna marinate you in a salt brine and bake you in the oven and have you with a side of tostones’ kind of way. I mean he doesn’t really try to bite a chunk off me but I definitely feel teeth digging in when he latches on like a leech and tries to suck the pheromones straight off my skin.

If you’ve met an alpha whose partner’s a prime age omega then you’ve met an alpha hiding some giant red-purple hickeys and teeth marks at least once or twice a year. I don’t know what that’s about; omegas are compelled to bite, I guess. We make them bite and they make us rut and we make them crave a knot. Fucking pheromones. 

 

OH and Keith  _ bit me _ bit me - like broke skin or got close - every single day when he was pregnant with Shiro. I actually got used to all the nips, it was so fucked up. Maybe that’s why Shiro’s into biting now? Brings him back to the good old days in the womb when mami was gnawing the pheromones off papi. I don’t know. I think our son gets worked up sometimes (he’s..excitable) and it’s how he gets back at people that upset him. We’re trying to figure out out how to change that behavior.

 

But anyway, Shiro’s adorable. He wears his big heart on his little sleeve. He’s so accident prone though and that tears me up cause he’s always so anxious to get things right and please people but things just don’t go right for him. He tries so hard not to disappoint. I worry about him cause he naturally wants everybody to like him, like that’s a huge deal for him, and that’s something that is impossible in life.

 

The older he gets the more he seems to have a sixth sense about people’s feelings, too. He’s as quick to worry about others as he is about himself. The other day Kitten mock-glared at me for some joke I said and Shiro caught that and thought it was serious and ran up to Keith to tell him I didn’t mean it and that I was very sorry. Mi lindo conejito. He’s so fucking adorable. 

 

I swear Keith almost swooned at that (I definitely swooned). He grabbed him up and covered him in kisses. Shiro knows how to human better than any of us. (By the way, I meant every word I said to Keith and I wasn’t sorry!)

 

If anything ever happened to Shiro… or Saul or Clara for that matter… well, I can’t think on that either. All I know is that I would destroy this fucking planet. I mean it.

 

Moving on to my youngest - Saul. He’s an omega too. Have you ever heard of a chill two-year-old? Yeah, me neither. Saul is one zen toddler. He started out as a zen baby. Like suspiciously zen. I know babies, I’ve handled babies all my life and Saul is way too cheerful and laid back to be a baby come toddler. At least an Alvarez Galra baby. Why is he so zen?? He’s giggly and plays with his dinosaurs and sings all the time. Allll the time. 

 

Temper tantrums aren’t in his nature. That doesn’t make any sense. Have you met his mom? Kitten bites my head off at least once a day for upkeep. Sometimes he’s just scowling in his sleep to stay in practice. None of that translates to zen offspring. We need to check for gene mutation cause that ain’t right. Saul has cried maybe one hour combined his whole life. He didn’t even cry when he was  _ born _ . 

 

As a baby, he’d wake up with a big smile and look at you like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. He whined very politely when he was teething. Now if he falls or hurts himself, his reaction is a surprised ‘Uh oh!’ and a laugh. Who does that?!

 

Personally, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

Maybe he’s saving the drama for his teen years. I hope not. I better start grounding him now if he’s gonna be anything like Clara.

 

Saul really is the cutest thing to ever happen to us crotchety war vets. He spends most of his time singing to himself and playing pretend with his stuffed toys. We all get invited to his impromptu dinosaur tea parties. He sneaks out clothes from Clara’s room and wraps his dinosaurs in them. Clara bought him kiddie nail polish and it’s like it opened a whole new world for him.

 

I’m painting his nails all the time. Kitten is painting his nails all the time. That is something to behold cause Keith and cute accessories don’t mix. It’s funny to watch him because he can get compulsive on the little things and he concentrates on perfectly painting Saul’s nails as if it was some life or death thing. Kitten’s adorable, I’m gonna twist him up and fuck him later.

 

Speaking of. So yeah, Keith, that’s my bondmate. My Kitten.

 

He’s my baby too. He’s my everything actually, full stop. You have no idea the kind of things we’ve seen and been through but we got through the thick and thin of it and somehow, someway, we’ve made it. He’s my life. Seriously.

 

Shiro - our friend and former teammate, Shiro - was our first team lead and then he was gone for a short stint and then not-Shiro had to step up a few times in the early years (long fucked up story, that one) but apart from that, Keith was our team lead for the better part of six years.  _ Years _ .

 

He kept the team together through sheer grit and determination. He led us through the missions, time and again, over and over throughout all of Lotor and Shiro’s campaigns and got better at it. Stronger. Even-keeled. We carved out success by the skin of our teeth because of him even when parts of the mission went awry. Maybe especially when things went awry. 

 

The war was long fits of nothing - lots of sitting and waiting - and then everything in between, like propoganda and planetside guerilla tactics and conventional warship (castleship in our case) battles. During that time, Kitten went from lone wolf to true teammate and Voltron leader. 

 

I mean seriously, we did some unreal shit. We could fight practically as a hive mind - all of us and the lions - whether we formed Voltron or not and when we did form Voltron we could leverage our strength in some wild ways.

 

Near the end, Kitten could do shit like part from Black and keep piloting her while on the ground on a rescue. 

 

He was my source of strength. There ain’t no else like him. 

 

I pretty much died once but he put me back together bit by stubborn bit. He’s fucking glorious. An omega freed and at peak potential. An omega unleashed. Keith.

 

It’s funny because back here on Earth, civilians don’t know any of that. There’s rumors at the Garrisons about us, whispers that twist the cover story for those that are not in the know, but that’s it. On Earth, Keith’s just another omega. One with an attitude. 

 

Ha. Wilting, demurring omega, Keith is NOT.

 

Know what’s interestingr? His omega scent runs sweet, like bread and sugar. It’s exactly what you may think of when you’re reading pheromone descriptions in Harlequin novels. You know the ones where the simpering omega hates the mysterious yet dashing alpha and then falls tits over heels in love with them and then passionate life-altering sex happens (I’m a big fan - all that swooning ‘take me alpha’ shit is solid wank material, I don’t care what anyone says. Kitten always cracks up when he catches me reading them.) 

 

Yeah, he’s got a really sweet scent. I miss it. I could almost taste it sometimes.

 

I mean, I’m mostly used to it now but it hits me at times how much I’m missing - like I see people look up for no reason and it’s cause someone’s scent is giving off some red flags. I can’t scent Kitten so I go by other cues but it hurts that everyone else can get their fill of his scent and it’s not accessible to me. 

 

The medics (even the highly advanced off Earth ones) can’t figure out why. According to all the scans, I should be capable of sensing pheromones but I can’t. I guess I should be grateful considering that I lost pretty much everything and got nearly everything back except for that one small thing. Not easy though.

 

Anyway back to Kitten. People usually start out thinking Clara got her sass from me but then Keith opens his mouth and that’s that. He’s a wry, hot-tempered little shit. He hasn’t met a stranger he didn’t hate. Don’t get me wrong, he’ll stand up for you, he’ll protect you with his life but please don’t talk to him cause that’s unnerving, unwelcome, and weird. Yeah, I don’t get that either. 

 

Did I mention how hot he is? Kitten’s got a glare that’ll slice you in two. He’s got ink black hair that he doesn’t do shit with, just pulls it back and lets the bangs hang heavy over his face so he looks like some dangerous unkept convict. He’s got the androgynous curves of an omega. His body leans more male than female but he’s gotten curved around the hips and chest after Saul. Yeah, he’s now got the perfect pair of small perky tits and I want to eat them for breakfast, daily.

 

And he’s petite everywhere (I mean,  _ everywhere _ ) but he’s built solid cause he’s a gym rat. He’s a whole head shorter than me too which works great, I’m always happy for a chin rest.

 

He’s playful too. He jokes around and is all smiles at me and the kids…

 

Yeah, that side of him is mine. 

 

Not sharing that.

 

My Kitten.

 

He’s everything. He’s done so much.

 

So. 

 

On to that day.

 

That nightmare of a day when he came to me looking for support, looking  _ crushed...  _ I mean my bondmate is a man that saved whole fucking worlds. 

  
Worlds, you know.

 

Rape’s an instrument of terror. 

 

A violation that fucks with your dignity and sense of self-worth.

 

Keith fought a war and escaped that indignity. 

 

For him to get hurt during peacetime as a civilian on Earth made the horrible even worse. To get hurt for no other reason than because there are self-serving monsters who have no regard for others - Keith FOUGHT for you, you son of a bitch. For this rapist piece of shit to hurt my bondmate.

 

I can’t. I can’t really talk about it, I need help. I like my therapist. He’s from the Garrison. Knows the real story on us and I can talk about anything but I can’t talk about this. I can’t. I don’t know. I. Fuck.

 

I was horrible to Kitten that day. 

 

Fucking unforgivable piece of shit of a bondmate that I am, I made the day even worse for him but he forgave me. 

 

And then he asked me to let things go.

 

I told him I would and I meant it too.

 

But the next day, a big nasty bruise appeared on my bondmate’s face.

 

I felt some kind of way.

 

Like I said, Kitten’s petite in stature. 

 

This motherfucker opened his mouth wide and bit down so hard he left a mark over my baby’s lips and chin and cheek… Keith had gotten treated immediately after the assault and bruising  _ still _ showed up after that. That tells me how violent it was. I asked Keith if he had been bleeding, he said only his nose but I don’t believe it, maybe he didn’t realize how bad it was. 

 

I can see the groove marks of the rapist’s teeth on my bondmate’s skin every time I close my eyes. In my mind’s eye, I see this rapist looming over Keith and biting him and touching him. I can see Keith, cornered, afraid and vulnerable.

 

Keith told me to let it go. But, I can’t.

 

I can’t. It just keeps spinning and spinning, round and round in my head. The teeth marks. All the things Keith had been through only to go through one more unnecessary piece of shit trauma.

 

You fucking touched my bondmate, you worthless piece of shit.

 

You worthless piece of  _ shit _ .

 

I can’t let it go. I can’t.

 

If you fuck with my family, I’m gonna fuck with you.

 

I’m gonna fuck with you, Nicholas.


	2. How It Went

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance struggles through his feelings and toes a line of no return.

We live on the outskirts of a large town in Cuba by the countryside. Our house is on the very end of a side road where a few colorful little houses line the streets. Our backyard is actually a few acres big and borders land that my parents left me and my sisters. Emily lives two houses down from us and my other sister, Luisa, stays a few months at a time on the shared property. Luisa keeps up with maintenance - she fixed up the barn house and rents it out. 

 

It’s usually rented out cause we’re really close to Viñales Valley which is popular with tourists. We help her out with maintenance and anything her guests need since we live here full time. She offered to pay me but we don’t need it. I actually like helping out cause a lot of it is farmhand work which is what I grew with so it helps me feel close to my parents who never got the chance to see me again. 

 

I’ll never really get over it- that my parents never got to meet my kids and my bondmate or at least get to know that I was alive after all that time. I wish I could’ve hugged them and told them that they could stop worrying about big mouth me  - that someone ended up seeing through my bullshit and loving me. That I wasn’t showboating for everyone anymore. That I know I’m smart and I can take things seriously. But I never got that chance. 

 

I’d like to think that my parents would’ve been proud of me. Kitten tells me that he’s sure of it but I got my doubts cause the way I’ve been thinking lately and the kind of rage I’m feeling inside isn’t something they would be proud of. They would’ve probably been worried for me and consoling me cause they would know that something isn’t right. No one in the world loves you as unconditionally as your parents but mine are gone and I gotta keep standing on my own as I’m the parent now.

 

So. Anyway.

 

Luisa is happy to keep me busy. I get to play tourist guide which is the best cause I can bring Shiro or Saul with me and sometimes get Clara to join us if she’s around. I get to show off my kids and my town to all kinds of people. Since I won’t take the money, Luisa, who’s an architect, insists on helping me out with our home cause I’m always planning stuff for our place. 

 

Kitten’s happy to let me do whatever I want so there’s always some kind of contractor around, either building something or hardscaping on the property. I try to get them over when Kitten’s not home cause otherwise, he watches them like he’s waiting for an excuse to slice them up and hide the bodies. He’s a natural at unnerving people mainly cause he doesn’t care if you are looking back at him or not when he’s scrutinizing.

 

People don’t know what to do with themselves around Keith cause he’s got the vibe of a raging bull but he’s wearing a ‘harmless omega’ skin suit. Well sort of; he wears ‘harmless omega’ the way a crotchety, hungry lion wears ‘harmless cat’. In a lot of ways, Kitten still embodies Black or maybe it’s the other way around? They were one and the same. I don’t know. It’s hot though.

 

Anyway, the point is, I thought I was probably gonna die during the war so it means a lot to me that I can work on a stable little haven here for my family. I’m getting good at the Do-It-Yourself stuff. Whenever I have a chance, I’m building something with my hands cause it’s nice that I got the coordination for it and can get the sequence right. I’ve been spending spare time on floor tiles for our new rooftop terrace and it’s actually not bad handiwork. 

 

Kitten will definitely like it. I got it built for him. I got the idea when I was on the roof one day, fetching Shiro’s shoes (don’t ask) and noticed that we have a good view of the valley from up here.  I know Kitten’s gonna appreciate it cause he loves nature. He was probably a tree in his previous life or a prickly cactus. Definitely the cactus. Anyway, he can come up here and get away from me and the kids which he needs sometimes. 

 

I’ve been telling him that I’m not done yet and that he should wait for the “grand opening” before coming up here but I’m stalling. I got the tiles done a few days ago and since then I’ve been coming up here for an hour or two just to sit with my thoughts and to keep my pheromones to myself cause I don’t want to agitate Kitten or Clara with my scent and I know it’s gotta be off the fucking charts all the time. 

 

Problem is that I see the proof of that rapist on Kitten’s face and his neck and his faraway looks. Kitten’s always self-reflecting but I gotta work harder to dig him out of his thoughts and it pisses me off cause he should never have to cope with shit like this. And Clara keeps asking me what happened to mami. I can’t even deal with that. She’s not blind, of course, she saw the bruises...what am I supposed to say? Should I talk about it? 

 

I cannot get past what happened. It’s so bad that I had to take a few days off work so I can try to sort through this shit cause at this point, I’m seeing that asshole - that  _ assaulted _ my bondmate - everywhere. I think I see him in the skies on my way to work. I see him walking down the street. I think I hear him.  I see him around corners. I see that shit-for-brains sitting in my classroom. None of that makes sense cause he doesn’t go to the Garrison I work for and he’s been suspended so he’s not gonna be around but here I am fucking hallucinating. 

 

Yeah, he got suspended but the Garrison doesn’t even know the half of it. Personally, I got my suspicions that they’re putting a blind eye to it. Nicholas DuBois ran into his CO before he could clean up after trying to  _ rape my bondmate;  _ Kitten’s blood by the way on his fucking fist and uniform. I know cause I read his CO’s report - “blood spatter that did not appear to be DuBois’”. He told his CO he got into a fight so he got himself a 45-day suspension which is more severe than usual for that kind of thing and that’s cause he’s been disciplined before. 

 

The coward said it was a stupid scuffle with a civilian. He deserves a whole lot worse than a suspension. Obviously, he’s a danger to the people around him. He needs to be locked up or he just needs to be gone. We’re all the better for it.

 

I’m still waiting on Kitten to file a report and it’s killing me. I’m trying not to push him so I keep my mouth shut and stick to checking the Garrison records at work. I check every day, several times a day whether there’s anything new filed against DuBois. I’m hoping that maybe Keith reported him without telling me. Or that the fucking tech that treated him would put the pieces together and report Nicholas.

 

Fucking something. Anything. But no. I’m getting  _ nothing _ . All these assholes gotta do is give a fuck and not take the word of an aggressive, problematic cadet when he says that nothing big happened. That piece of shit is living his best life in his hometown just waiting for his suspension to be up so he can return to the Garrison like nothing happened. Yeah, not while I’m alive you fucking animal.  

 

I’m trying to breathe. 

 

He keeps affecting my bondmate.

 

Keith kept his hair loose for a while cause he was hiding the remnants of fingerprint bruises on his neck. How is that right?

 

It’s been almost two weeks and there is  _ still  _ evidence of that bite on my bondmate’s face. And to make it worse, Keith keeps trying to comfort  _ me _ over it, saying that it’s okay and that he’s fine. I can’t keep my scent right and instead of me comforting my bondmate, he’s comforting me. How the fuck is that right? 

 

And sex. Keith is all over me even more than usual but it’s horrible now cause it’s not about us, it’s about him trying to forget Nicholas DuBois. Three days ago he was teasing me like normal; all cocky smiles, fun taunts, and demands but then I cornered him to tease back - something I do all the time and he usually eats up - I saw him  _ wince _ . That hurt so fucking bad. His eyes widened and his face grew pale like he had panicked. Keith. Panicking. That is so wrong on so many different levels. 

 

I ended up on my knees just hugging him and trying not to cry.

 

So I tell him I love him any chance I get and I tell him he’s gonna get through this but he keeps looking at me like he’s not sure what to think cause my scent keeps telling him that I’m spitting mad and there’s no suppressing scent. He really doesn’t need to deal with my shit too. So now when the kids are sorted, I hide up here like a complete dickhead until I can cool down. 

 

He’s not even here right now but I’m used to coming up here when I get worked up. I’m trying to be as strong as him - he knows how to let the anger go. I need to do better than this. 

 

“Hey.”

 

Shit. I startle and look up. Kitten’s standing right in front of me. The kids are at school and babysitter’s, he’s not supposed to be here at this time. He’s usually out for a run or at some form of martial arts training unless he’s got work. He’s wearing the casual stuff he wears around the house and he’s barefoot meaning that he hasn’t been out. Not sure how I got back and missed him entirely.

 

“Hey yourself. Don’t you got gym?”

 

He crosses his arms and shrugs. “I slept in.”

 

That’s not normal but I got no room to talk cause me hiding isn’t normal either. He’s looking around and I’m feeling guilty cause there’s clearly no more work needed on the terrace. It’s missing furniture though. This isn’t how I wanted to show it to him. His eyes swing back towards me, studying me.

 

“You avoiding me?” He asks, voice gruff. He’s always straight to the point. There are a couple more questions behind that look.

 

I hesitate. “A little bit.”

 

I offer him my hand and happily, he takes it. He sits down next to me on the tiles so I wrap my arm around his waist and pull him close. My Kitten. I can’t scent his pheromones but I can catch the smell of our soap on his skin. He smells freshly showered and feels wonderful in my arms. I kiss the shell of his ear then his cheek.

 

“Why are you avoiding me?”

 

“I’m an asshole,” I say as if that’s an answer. He doesn’t let me get away with it though cause he just keeps staring until I gotta say something more. “I’m just trying to get my thoughts together.”

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

I know he doesn’t. I feel guilty. There’s no right thing to do. I know I’m tormenting him with my scent when I’m near him half the time and I know I’m hurting his feelings when I stay away. I don’t know what’s worse.

 

“I’m sorry, baby.” is all I can figure to say. My hand’s running down his cheek before I realize I’m doing it. He’s soft there when the rest of him is sinewy muscle. It gets me thinking. I know his body better than I know my own. I know every curve and bump and scar. I’ve tasted every bit of skin. I’ve seen the consequences of war and accidents and sunburn and sickness and pregnancy on his body. 

 

I’ve felt some kind of way about it all but none of it triggered the kind of outrage I’m feeling; this kind of fucked up fury inside when I catch sight of the fading marks on his chin and lips. He’s watching me as I thumb the bruises. It really happened to Keith. There is  _ no _ justification for what happened. None. I’m getting pissed again.

 

“You can stop looking at me like that.” He murmurs.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like you’re looking at some tragic accident.”

 

Shit. I feel my chest clench. “Kitten, screw you. I would never think that about you.”

 

He swallows and looks away towards the ironworks of the terrace railings. “Well, you keep looking like someone kicked your newborn puppy.” 

 

I know it’s gotta hurt for him to say that. He’s feeling weak. It’s more kindling for the fire. We shouldn’t be in this situation and I shouldn’t be this mad. My scent must’ve gone haywire again cause he whips back to glare at me and snaps at me like he’s had enough, “Why are you so fucking angry? What did I do?” 

 

“You didn’t do anything. I’m not mad at you.” I hurry to say. I hate that I’m doing this to us. I’m mentally screaming all the time and I can’t shake it.

 

His face is pinched as he bursts like he’s confessing shit, “He caught me off guard - that should never have happened, I should’ve been-” 

 

“Hey, hey!” I interrupt and cup his cheeks with my hands. I’m looking at him, willing him to get how much I mean what I’m saying, “It was not your fault. None of this is your fault. I’m not mad at you. I’m mixed up but not about that and not about you. I don’t want you to have your guard up, we’re not at war.”

 

His gaze darts from my own gaze to the rest of my face and back again as if he’s trying to decode me but I’m being earnest. He lets out a miserable huff of breath through his nose and looks away altogether. He gets lost in his head sometimes and I see that far away look setting in, putting distance between us. No, Kitten. I run my hands down his arms. I sweep his bangs away from his face and I keep kissing him until he’s kissing back. 

 

For my bondmate, a soft touch or a word of kindness from someone he loves is everything. You could dunk him in burning oil and it wouldn’t matter to him as much. It makes me hurt for that lonely kid he once was. I throw my arms around him and squeeze tight, feeling the unfairness of it all. When I hold him like this, it always strikes me that he’s not that big. How can someone with so much presence be so fucking small? 

 

“I love you.”

 

He nods and kind of sinks into me. We sit there on the bare floor of the rooftop terrace. I wish I could make all the wrong go away. It’s not right that my kitten’s struggling with this. It’s not  _ right _ . And there I go feeling it again; the anger bubbling up and choking me. He’s too caught up in his own hurt to catch my scent this time.

 

Fortunately, he changes the subject. “There’s a lunch-in with the One World dispatchers today then I’m talking to Future Command before my route.”

 

I nod. I already knew that but I guess he’s reminding me or maybe just distracting himself.

 

“Okay.”

 

I feel him take a deep breath and pull away. He’s staring at me again. Always thinking.

 

“See you tonight?”

 

“Of course, Kitten.”

 

He gets up and takes another look around. I know he likes it but I’m a little anxious over what he might say anyway. 

 

“This is nice.” He decides.

 

“Built it for you.”

 

I can’t help grinning when his lips quirk and he looks at me again, eyes bright with teasing laughter. It’s hot up here, I haven’t put up the fans or hooked anything to our climate circuitry but I forget all that when Kitten’s smiling at me. I wanna somehow show off like a fucking peacock to try and impress him and keep him smiling.

 

“Did you build it yourself? Is it up to code?”

 

I didn’t - he knows that - but we play anyway. “Yeah. What’s a code?”

 

“I was afraid of that. I’m gonna go now before the imminent collapse.”

 

“Don’t worry I used Shiro’s glitter glue to put it together. This shit is solid.” 

 

Shiro mixed glitter into a bottle of superglue he got into then proceeded to decorate a tree in the backyard and superglued himself to the tree. I’m not joking. Clara still asks Shiro how his bondmate - the guava tree - is doing when she’s being an ass to him. She spent that whole day cracking jokes but Keith had the last laugh, he made her and Shiro clean up the tree with solvent and toothbrushes. Nowadays, I just shake either one of my older kids a little bit whenever Saul wants some glitter on his artwork.

 

Kitten laughs, obviously sharing the memory. “Yeah. Bye, Lance.”

 

“See you later.”

 

I bite my lip as I watch my bondmate go.

 

Why would anyone try to hurt him? It’s not right.

 

I sigh.

 

All I know is that things can’t stand as they are. Each time I see this fucker in my head - like some sort of nightmare vision - I feel surer of it.

 

I find myself pulling out my comm and studying the stuff I’ve collected. Kitten doesn’t know that I know Wannabe Rapist’s address by heart. I know his routine and I keep track of his whereabouts.  I know the coffee he likes, the trails he runs. I know the best spots to engage him in his hometown. Did you know that the asshole is enjoying drop-in water polo at his local recreation center? Fucking enjoying himself like he’s on vacation while me and Kitten are here suffering. 

 

It’s not right.

 

Under all the rage, I’ve been trying to ignore the soldier voice in my head telling me ‘I need to take care of this’ but it’s hard to ignore when I know for a fact that DuBois is out there living his best life, consequence-free, while me and Kitten are kind-of-sort-of fighting or not talking all the time cause of him. It’s not right. 

 

DuBois is a danger to the people around him. If he could get this far with Keith, he could do a lot worse to someone less trained. Maybe he’s already done worse. 

 

I spend another few days hiding on the terrace. Kitten’s sure that I’m blaming him which I’m  _ not _ . If I spend one more fucking day sitting on this terrace trying to cool down…

 

You know what? I make up my mind all of a sudden. I’ve had enough. I was fantasizing before on how I would do things if me and DuBois were to meet but I’m gonna follow through with it cause honestly, I’ve planned it all out. I’m feeling a little better after I make this decision. I think Kitten senses that too cause things get more normal between us that night. Yeah, this is the right thing to do. It feels right.

 

Three days later, I kiss Keith awake in the morning and crack jokes. I get Saul and Shiro sorted and spend quality time teasing our eldest. I drop them off at school and Saul with my sister and I get back home in time to pour peanuts in a tiny child lunchbox I found in Luisa’s barn house. I hand the ‘homemade lunch’ to Kitten who smirks and takes it to work with him. Haha, I love you, Kitten.

 

I’m running through my plan as I head out to our locked weapons storage. During the war, my bayard took the form of sniper weapons cause there lay my natural talents. The math and the marksmanship come easy. It’s a part of me and brought me comfort to learn how to shoot again when I was recovering. I do miss my bayard but I have other options. 

 

I get in my car and I crank the music as I fly out. I got four hours. I’m gonna make sure the fucker understands that there are consequences for every action. DuBois ain’t ever gonna forget me.

 

\--- 

 

An hour and fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting on a bench in the big city park that’s across the street from DuBois’ apartment, facing a lake and some basketball courts. It’s actually his aunt’s apartment cause he doesn’t have a place of his own. I keep my eyes on the pick-up game but past it, I can see the entrance to DuBois’ building so I’ll know exactly when he’s out for a run and which way he decides to go today. From there I can get to where I need to be.

 

So I’ve scoped out where I need to sit. The only real hurdle now is calling Kitten. His cargo route this week keeps him close. I usually call him during my office hours if I know he’s in range. I get up and head further down one of the park trails, making sure I’m far away from the playground and noise as the main language here is English and he’ll notice that. 

 

I lean against a metal storage building that looks just like any metal storage building at any Garrison. I’ve called him with a background like this before while on my way between buildings. I need to make sure the trees are out of view cause they’re not the ones native to the adjunct Garrison grounds I work at and he’ll notice that too. 

 

I close my eyes and I center myself. I think about the stupid lunchbox and I smile to myself. I take a deep breath as I ping him and smile broadly. Sometimes he’s out of range so I might luck out. He picks up and I’m greeting him before the visual can materialize properly.

 

“Hey Kitten.” 

 

My smile’s too hard. My eyes are too manic. I know it. Shit. Shit. I keep smiling anyway. 

 

He’s in the cockpit of a hauler. He doesn’t need headgear for that type of craft. I can see his expression clearly. The initial warmth that greets me disappears as he processes what he’s seeing. He takes one good look at me and his face just... drops. Of course, it does. He knows me. I’m panicking but I keep smiling. I’m thinking I can still pull this off. I’m playing myself.

 

“Did you enjoy your lunch?” I try to tease but his eyes are filling with tears and it’s over for me.  He can tear me to pieces without a word. I can hear the unspoken pain -  _ I let myself be vulnerable to you and you’re hurting me.  _ He has a way of cutting through my bullshit. All my reasoning and justification and one thing leading to another that brought me to this moment. I feel like a dumb shit wearing dark clothes cause I’m expecting blood spatter. I’m carrying a weapon cause hey maybe he’s even worse than I thought so I’ll finish the job.

 

“Kitten? What’s wrong?” My voice is trembling. I’m talking but he’s just looking at me, betrayed. 

 

He stays silent. 

 

“You’re not gonna say anything?” I demand aggressively but inside I’m crumbling because I’m hurting my bondmate.  _ Again _ . I  _ promised _ him I would let it go. What the  _ fuck _ am I doing? I. I can’t look at him anymore.

 

I hang my head in shame and I bear the condemning silence. I deserve it.

 

I’m the scum of the Earth. 

 

Oh god.  

 

Oh god, oh god. 

 

If I get close to DuBois..

 

It’s over for him...and me.

 

My baby hurts and I don’t get to raise my kids. I don’t get to be by Kitten’s side. 

 

He should never have to look at me this way. What the fuck does it mean to be an alpha or a bondmate? Not this.

 

My  _ kids _ . My  _ bondmate _ . My parents would spin in their graves cause this isn’t how they raised me. I gotta be that kind of alpha, huh. 

 

No.

 

_ No _ .

 

“I’m armed,” I confess in agony. I can’t bear to look up and I’m shaking bad. “Tell me what to do.” I’m at a fucking loss on what to do right now. Just help me one last time if this is it.  _ Please _ . I hear a ping on my comm which means he’s looking up my coordinates. 

 

“What did you do?” He says at last. He sounds so raw. Shattered.

 

I shake my head. “I haven’t done anything, I swear.” I gasp. I can barely get the words out past my panic. “Tell me what to do.” I don’t know what to do.

 

“Stay in the park. Communication’s gonna cut out but I’ll be there. I’m on my way.”

 

I nod and I feel my body slump against the shed I’ve been leaning on. Oh god. The world feels like it’s closing in, pressing down on me from all sides. This shouldn’t be happening to me. I think I see someone coming down the path and I start walking away. I end up near the fucking playground. Lone male alphas aren’t typically welcome in playgrounds. Especially alphas that look like me right now. The stuff around me is making me kind of crazy. 

 

All that noise, all these people just fucking everywhere. Everyone is a potential enemy, the loud shriek of kids, random bystanders, food vendors. I know they’ll notice me if they haven’t already and I can’t handle anyone coming up to me right now. I can barely hold my comm straight as I use it to seek out a low traffic spot. I find the direction and I’m walking, head down, fists clenched.

 

I’m at the less maintained nature paths and I run down one of the less trodden paths. I go off the trail and climb down into the woods. I find a big tree and I sit. I don’t feel safe but I’m the fucking monster here among civilians. I need to stay put.

 

I gotta focus on breathing. Slow deep breaths. In and out. There’s no bayard and no orders. I know I’m not thinking right. I haven’t been like this in years. Fucking *flashes* of DuBois is in my head taunting me. I’m so close but if I get rid of him then I’m just an animal too. I can do better than this. I’m struggling.

 

I squeeze my eyes shut. I need to stand down. This is a time of peace. There is rule of law. The One World laws apply to me. I’m a One World citizen. I live in Cuba. With my family. In a time of peace. I think I hear people and I tense up. I don’t know who's the one in danger - them or me.

 

“Stand down,” I mutter to myself.

 

I just start talking out loud about my day cause I need it. “Today I woke up in my bed, in my house in Viñales, Cuba. Kitten was by my side. I had breakfast with my kids.”

 

I concentrate on what was next. “I was talking to Clara cause she was asking for advice on that kid she likes in her pretend-it’s-not important-or-a-big-deal-to-me kind of way.” 

 

I linger on that cause I was a little worried this morning. Why was I worried?  Right. She seems to be deep in her feelings over that Marcelo kid. I bite my lip. She’s not doing anything crazy other than probably etching bad love poetry on her cycler. I can deal with my daughter’s teenage drama. She’s got Marcelo’s feed open all the time and got the whole ‘no one could possibly understand what she’s feeling’ down pat. 

 

I’m breathing. I’ve been greeting her in the mornings with “What’s Marcelo up to?” which she hates but she’s not opposed to the hug that follows. She usually lets loose a pitiful lovelorn sigh. I smile. My poor baby. Hopefully, Marcelo’s into her. I’m betting he doesn’t take her over opinionated shit lying down and that’s why she’s into him. I bet she doesn’t know that.

 

I’m feeling a little lighter now. My head goes to Shiro.

 

Shiro spent the whole time giggling cause I made a ‘Simon says’ game out of his morning. I’m smiling cause I’m remembering saying ‘Simon says make the bed while mooing like a cow and standing on one foot.’  He was on the floor in fits when I asked him what cow was he quoting when he kept moo-ha-ha-ing. He was laugh crying this morning.

 

_ “Papi…[cows don’t moo..]”  _

 

_ “[Excuse me?!]” I said. _

 

_ “[I mean laugh!! Cows don’t laugh!]” _

 

_ “[Maybe your jokes aren’t funny?]” _

 

_ “Papi!” _

 

That’s when Saul ran in and I picked him up. I’m grinning now cause I gave Saul a bunch of hairclips I stole from Clara’s room and sent him back to Kitten who had gotten him ready for the babysitter. I gave him a  ‘go help mami with his hair’ mission and he ran off, looking determined. I caught up with Kitten in the kitchen. He came in with this pained smile on his face while holding Saul at arm’s length like he was allergic to him. Saul was still reaching for his hair but Kitten was rescued by Clara who declared those were her clips and took them back. Kitten didn’t know I was behind all that... Ha.

 

Okay... I’m breathing a lot easier now. I cross my arms and relax. I haven’t been this close to the abyss in a long time. I’m too old for this shit. I thought I was over these kinds of episodes but I guess they’re gonna come back and punch me in the face every now and again. I know I’m not right yet. I try not to think at all and focus on my breathing.

 

Not sure how much time passes but I hear quiet footsteps that veer in my direction, followed by the familiar baritone of my bondmate.

 

“It’s me.” He calls out. I look down at my lap as he gets closer. All I feel is a sense of shame.

 

His hands appear in my line of sight, one clenched by his side and the other palm up extended out to me. Small capable hands. I fucking love those hands. Those hands shook when I taught them how to hold a baby. They’ve clung to my back countless times and have pulled me into all kinds of kisses. They’ve snatched me out of certain death. 

 

They constantly save me from myself.

 

“Give me the weapon.”

 

Yeah. I pull it out of the holster and hand it to him. It’s small and undetectable to Earth equipment. I feel him moving. He sits beside me.

 

“Look at me.” 

 

Kitten is always intense. He’s abrasive and unrelenting and you gotta be strong if you want his respect. I can barely see him through the mess of tears blurring my sight but I meet his eyes cause I’m at his level. I’m brave too.

 

He’s breathtaking as always. He looks determined. Clear-sighted.

 

“Don’t do this again.”

 

I nod and I brace myself cause he’s gonna let me have it.

 

“You were gonna fuck us up. You promised me you’d let it go. You’re here to kill him.”

 

“I wasn’t.” Maybe. I’m not sure.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

He’s right.

 

We’re literally one block away from DuBois. I planned on beating the ever-loving shit out of him and I was gonna keep hitting until I felt satisfied. Fuck, I studied this place the way I did when I had sniper missions. That’s what this is, I realize. My very own custom-made mission for the good of no one. It would just fucking feel good. 

 

Kitten’s looking pale. I know it’s my scent. The alpha jackass that I am. “How do you get past this? You gotta get past this.” He sounds desperate.

 

I sigh and close my eyes again. What the  _ fuck _ kind of person am I?

 

He snorts,  _ “ _ You’re a flawed human. It’s a thing, Lance. _ ” _

 

Oh, I had said that out loud.

 

I look out at the woods in front of me cause I’m at a loss. My emotions are all over the place. I feel untethered. Shit, a great big lump is forming in my throat. He pulls me into the comfort and safety of his arms. 

 

“What do I do, Kitten?”

 

“Not this. You fucking talk to me. You don’t go hunting.”

 

I snort, utterly disgusted with myself because I got my bondmate supporting  _ me _ again when he’s the one that suffered. My head is tucked under his chin. The dynamic changes though cause he’s breathing rough suddenly and talking like he’s working out a knife that ripped through his chest.  

 

“He got under my skin. Some 19-year-old kid.”

 

I chafe at him calling that worthless trash a ‘kid’ but Kitten’s taking his own advice and is talking to me. This isn’t about me.

 

“My coworkers look at me like I’m some fucking victim. I’m cringing half the time cause I keep feeling him bite down on me. I feel his hands pulling open my jumpsuit. I’m not a fucking victim. I’m not.”

 

I’m squeezing him so hard that I think I might be hurting him.

 

“I’m gonna get myself together.” He says. “But I need you to get your shit together too. We don’t deal in revenge.”

 

I nod. It’s sinking in. I think I needed a reminder of who we are. I’m feeling like I got a purpose here. He really needs me to get a hold of myself. “Okay.”

 

I’m worn out. All these bad feelings bombarding me for so long. I’m sagging in his arms. 

 

“I’ll do better,” I mutter.

 

“I know.” He says simply and I know that he means it. 

 

We sit quietly as the world starts falling back into place. I take a deep breath. God, I could’ve lost everything today. How stupid.

 

I breathe out as I listen to Kitten’s heartbeat.


	3. Karma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have a way of coming back around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Brackets mean spoken in Spanish]

That wasn’t the end. This is what happens next -

 

We start moving again cause this isn’t the place for us. We get back on the path and if it isn’t fucking Nicholas DuBois, coming around the bend, jogging without a care in the world. This isn’t one of his usual routes. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees us. I can see the whites of his eyes as his gaze darts from Kitten to me. We’re probably the last thing he was expecting to see. 

 

You know, I live with the knowledge that innocent people have died because of my actions in battle. There’s a lot of possibilities right now. I  _ could _ be the last thing he sees. Kitten wouldn’t expect me to go for the firearm and I might have a chance at grabbing it and taking care of a problem.

 

But my bondmate’s got my hand and I got his so we’re steady. My head’s on straight. There are no words said between me and that fucker but there’s a whole lot of communicating. Kitten and I are out of place here and we all know it. DuBois can’t look away cause he might be in danger. Looks like the implications here are sinking in and he’s pale. Yeah, I’m here for  _ you _ .  He’s trying to look brave but I’ve done this before and I’m not impressed. 

 

You should hurt. I should make you fucking hurt. I pour everything I’m feeling into that look I’m giving him. I feel Kitten’s hand sweating but I hang on tight. My bondmate’s gonna be fine.

 

I glare at DuBois. You feeling kind of powerless, Nicholas? Like a bad situation just fell on your lap, huh motherfucker? Scared? The twisted up feelings inside of me are screaming all at once. My head shouts at this bastard - _This is how my bondmate felt!_

 

Kitten squeezes my hand tight enough to hurt.

 

If I was younger and this was war I wouldn’t be thinking right now. You’re just another target. But this isn’t war and I’m bigger than this.  _ Even if you don’t deserve this reprieve, _ I’m bigger than this. You’re not worth my time nor my destiny. There is so much more to my life than you.

 

I’m thinking about Keith. We bonded so we honor each other’s values. I know how Kitten works. He’s hurt right now but even through that, he wants to understand DuBois so he could prevent another DuBois. 

 

I get that but there’s no space inside me for understanding a rapist - that shithead is either a psychopath or guided by his demons - either way, he proved he’s a danger to others and I don’t have the patience for that. I’ll leave the critical thinking to Kitten.

 

Maybe one day you’ll atone for this if there’s anything decent in you, you sick fuck. Maybe you’ll learn to be a real fucking alpha. That’s the best I can do. Kitten believes pain is the foundation for good. That’s why he’s so resilient and that’s how I know that he’s gonna do the right thing and report you.

 

You’re done, DuBois. 

 

It’s crazy that I get to finally confront the man that’s been the source of all this pain and grief for so long and I don’t get to do what I wanted yet somehow I’m breathing easy. He lost his power over me and I’m gonna make sure it’s the same for my bondmate.

 

We hear someone coming down the path and it breaks the tableau; the idiot is stumbling back, tripping over himself to get away. I gotta say that it’s really fucking satisfying. I kind of want to chase after him just cause he’s running. Some sort of predator/prey shit there. I close my eyes as it starts to drizzle. I crane my head up towards the sky. 

 

The rain feels kind of cleansing.

 

Okay.

 

Okay.

 

Keith and my kids need me.

 

I’m done with the crazy.

 

I’m feeling a kind of transformative something inside. 

 

“Let’s go home..” I say as I make my peace. I feel it this time. Kitten decides what’s next for DuBois, not me. He just needs time and support and I can give him that. I got him.

 

He lets out a breath like he’s been holding it for a while. I look and he’s staring at me again, squinting through the rain. He’s soft. Wary.

  
“I’m done Kitten. I promise.”

 

His eyes narrow, I know he’s slicing and dicing everything that just happened. Kitten’s always analyzing.

 

“Okay. That was really bullshit alpha posturing.” He’s all disgruntled and looks away. “I hate alpha posturing. I don’t condone any of that shit.” He has a moment where he shifts and bites his bottom lip. It kind of reminds me of when he gets worked up sometimes on my pheromones while asleep.

 

He waits, arms crossed, for the girl coming down the path to pass out of earshot before he looks at me again and adds, “We’re gonna get to my jetcar and you’re gonna fuck my brains out.”

 

 Ha, got him excited. Called it.

 

I half smile. “‘kay.”

 

Lightning strikes nearby and scares the shit out of us as the rain turns into a downpour. He grabs my hand again and runs like we’re being chased. He laughs as we scramble into his car and I’m thinking DuBois has already lost the game. 

 

We’re gonna be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was actually inspired by a comment that wondered about Lance’s reaction after Nicholas DuBois. I didn’t think I wanted to write about it but then it got stuck in my head so here we are. Thank you for inspiring and I hope the story gives justice to the topic. :)


End file.
